


Shy

by elizabethbruttenholm



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band), Repugnant (Band)
Genre: Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:08:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26761870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizabethbruttenholm/pseuds/elizabethbruttenholm
Summary: Turns out Mary Goore is a knight in shining armor. Prince Charming. What the hell?Inspired by the song "Shy" by Sonata Arctica.This is not AT ALL canon with the Repugnant universe and is purely self indulgent.
Relationships: Mary Goore/Original Female Character
Comments: 28
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

“How was the show tonight, boys,” I asked, passing out steaming cups of coffee.

“Pretty good,” one of them said, “Rough crowd, though.”

“Hm, well,” I sighed, smiling, pulling my little notebook out of the front of my apron, “Are we having the usual? Denver omelet no, mushrooms? Number four, extra bacon? King’s Stack of Cakes? And,” I turned to the man sitting closest to me, stage blood still running down his neck, and caked into his hair - he’d washed most of it off his face this time, “Cheese omelet, extra cheese with jalapeños,” he pointed two finger guns at me.

They had been coming in for months, almost always a few hours after a show, they ordered food, coffee and then tipped very, very well. They were my favorite customers - polite and quiet but, always told me how nice I looked, even if it was four in the morning and I hardly looked my best. They all talked animatedly, except one - omelet with extra cheese and jalapeños - He was quieter, so handsome with sleepy eyes watching me as I worked. It was flattering but, admittedly a little creepy - the blood and all.

I took their order and slid it across the window, “the boys are here,” I called to Joey in the kitchen. Joey was a massive Italian - the most stereotypical version of one - overweight, dark hair slicked back, thick East coast accent, he was the owner and one of two cooks at the cafe. He was sickeningly sweet and took good care of the three of us that waited tables. He and I were close and I almost always worked the same shifts as he did – we were a good team.

“On it,” he called, setting his anti-health-department cigar on the ashtray near the grill.

I rolled silverware at the counter, nursing a cup of coffee. I could smell their food cooking and my stomach growled, “Hey, Joey?” I shuffled over to the window.

“Bout that time, doll?”

“You know me so well,” I smiled.

“Coming right up,” Joey tossed a handful of spinach, onions, tomatoes, mushrooms and feta into a bowl - my favorite omelet ingredients.

The boys’ order came up and I delivered them, balancing all four plates on my arms. I fetched two bottles of Tabasco and refilled their coffees. By then, Joey had finished my breakfast and I leaned against the counter, “Hey, come eat with us,” one of the guys said.

“Oh, I don’t -,” I looked to Joey who waved his hand.

“Sit and relax, Frannie - I’ll watch the front.”

I gathered my plate and coffee and slid into the booth, “This is embarrassing,” I said, “But I only know you by your orders. I’m afraid I don’t know your names.”

“Well, shit,” King Stack of Cakes smiled, “I’m Evan, this is Sam and Chris and this is Mary.”

I asked them questions about the band and the usual questions you ask about people’s lives, “You should come to a show sometime,” Evan said, as we sat back with full bellies, “Bring some friends, have a few drinks.”

“Sounds fun,” I stood and gathered up the empty dishes. I glanced at Mary who was staring again, “It might be fun seeing you guys in action.”

They left, shoving more cash than necessary into my hand plus, a napkin with their next show date and address on it. I cleaned their table, wiping down the salt and pepper shakers, chucking one of the now empty Tabasco bottles into the trash, “That scary one likes you,” Joey said, coming out of the kitchen to refill his own coffee cup.

“What?”

“The bloody one.”

“Mary?”

“Yeah. He likes you.”

“He doesn’t - does... he?”

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t flattered. Mary was hot. That muss of dark hair, those even darker eyes and full lips. He was long and lanky. Joey shook his head, “Darling, I know what it means when a man looks at a woman like that.”

“Oh, please,” I rolled my eyes, the heat in my cheeks rising to betray my nonchalance.

“Why don’t you finish up the silverware and head home, Frannie,” Joey said, gazing at his watch, “Sarah will be here soon. I can handle the downtime in between.”

“You sure?” I yawned and Joey chuckled, nodding. I happily finished up the rolls of silverware and headed for the door. Asking once more, “You’re sure, you’re sure, Joey? I can wait for Sarah.”

“Get outta here, kid,” Joey smiled from the kitchen window.

I stepped out into the cold morning, donning my jacket, “See you tonight, Joey!”

“Bye, doll!”

_Mary Goore waited in the alley. Like he did every night. Frannie stepped outside and breathed in the fresh air as she slipped on her coat. It was nearly light but, like always, he’d make sure she got home safe. He’d started it by accident, months ago, he was walking home from a threesome and saw Frannie walking across the street – a man following too close, she had been completely unaware. Mary saw the look in the man’s eyes and even from across the street, Mary knew what the end game was. Frannie didn’t know that Mary had pulled her would be attacker into a side street and beat him to a pulp._

_Mary had wanted Frannie long before that but, spilling blood in her name only drove him farther into his obsession. Silently, he followed - at a safe distance - he would die if she ever caught him._

_Five blocks she walked, hands shoved in her pockets, head down. She always slowed down a bit, during the last leg of her commute - exhaustion weighing on her, Mary saw her shoulders sag as she rubbed the back of her neck._

_He would leave, once he reached her doorstep to the apartment and she was inside. Christ, he fucking hated himself. He could try talking to her, yeah, and she would deny him. He wasn’t her type. Or he could stop following her like normal fucking person. Or, he could just move on. He did none of those. Choosing to silently keep away, making sure she was safe. Trailing behind her. He had tried on multiple nights to give it up but, the guilt from imagined scenarios ate him alive and he always made his way to the diner around dawn._

_Like always, Mary walked out of his hiding spot in the alley and walked past the diner door, “You should talk to her,” the oversized cook said, standing in the doorway_

_“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST,” Mary jumped, clutching his chest._

_“She’s a sweet girl,” Joey said, “She likes you, too. Well, she thinks you’re hot, anyway.”_

_Mary swallowed and nodded but, left without a word. Joey didn’t see the smile slowly spreading on Mary Goore’s face._


	2. Chapter 2

I had enlisted my roommate, Lucy to gather up a group of friends for a night out, “Re... uh... Repug? God, I don’t know,” I giggled, putting on my makeup.

“Repugnant? Oh, they’re pretty good. I’ve seen them a few times,” she said, lacing up her well-worn Doc Marten combat boot, “A little heavy for you. I didn’t realize _that_ was the band you’ve been talking about,” she looked much more like the type of girl who might get invited to the band’s show. I was jealous of her – she was like some sort of goth bombshell. She worked at a record shop and we met years ago when I had stopped in looking for some Christmas gifts.

“They’re really sweet,” I shrugged, applying a red lip, slowly and delicately. I wore black, high waisted jeans and a blank tank, tucked in with a dark green belt. I bummed a well fitted a leather jacket from Lucy, “Well,” I spun around, in front of her.

“Hot.”

“Perfect.”

I donned a pair of black heels; it’d been a long time since we went out and I slipped a pair of flip flops into my purse. I liked the look but, I was hardly committed to it. My feet were always tired when I got home from work – my one pair of heels rarely saw the light of day.

We took a cab across town to the venue, a large but already cramped dive bar. Lucy held my hand, pulling me through the crowded bar as she scanned the booths for her friends that were already here, “Hey, Frannie!” I saw Evan from the stage, he waived.

“Hi,” I waived back. Lucy had found her friends and I told her I’d join her in a second, maneuvering towards the stage, “I’ve only ever seen the aftermath of a show,” I smiled, leaning against it, “You look good! Where’s everyone else?”

“Backstage, pregaming, I’m sure,” Evan sat the guitar back in the stand, “C’mon, have a drink with us.”

“Oh, I’ve got a table-,”

He held out his hand, “You’re a guest of the band tonight, it’s a special treat,” he waggled his eyebrows, “backstage pass, you know.”

He helped me onto the stage and then led me off the side, stepping down into a busy, cramped hallway, “Hey, Frannie came,” Matt yelled, and he and Chris were leaning against the wall, sharing a bottle of tequila.

“Yeah, thanks for the invite,” I smiled.

“You look good,” Chris grinned, “Never seen you in anything but that waitress outfit.”

“Well, here I am,” I held my arms out, “In the flesh.”

“Hey, if you’re not working, where are we gonna eat?” Evan asked.

“I’m sure we can figure something out that doesn’t involve Frannie having to fucking wait hand and foot on us,” I turned to find Mary in full regalia, fresh stage blood dripping down his face. It was the most I’d ever heard him speak. I remembered the talk I had with Joey and I smiled, biting my lip to keep the grin under control.

“Hello, Mary,” I smiled.

“Hi, Frannie. You look... hot.”

“You look... sticky.”

Evan stood next to us as we stared at each other, “Why don’t we have a drink or two before we start making babies, yes?”

“Sounds good,” I said, turning away from Mary, needing the extra dose of courage.

Evan carefully poured five shots of tequila into red solo cups and then passed them around, “No salt or limes... or a chaser, sorry Frannie,” he said.

I downed the tequila in front of them, shivering and puckering as the alcohol burned my throat and then settled, hot in my belly, “I might serve you pancakes in a pink dress but, I don’t need a chaser,” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand but, shivered and hiccupped - my rough facade given away, “Okay, maybe I need a little, that’s horrible,” I looked up at Mary who was staring again, and smiled.

“Oh, my God,” Evan shook his head, “The googoo eyes. Must stop. It’s like a goddam Disney movie in here.”

“Let’s drink,” Matt said, breaking my eyes away from Mary. We all shifted to the side of the hallway and Evan passed out beers.

By the time the boys were ready to play, I had taken off my jacket and was grinning, ear to ear - buzzed enough to have a good time but not enough to have a hangover. Yet. I grabbed one last beer to nurse, “Break a leg,” I smiled and turned to leave, stopping in front of Mary. My confidence at an all-time high thanks to the alcohol, I stuck my finger to his cheek and pulled it back, sticking the now blood covered tip into my mouth, “Peppermint,” I winked before walking away.

“Oh, you are so screwed,” I heard one of them say.

“Shut the fuck up,” Mary growled.

I joined Lucy and the group, good friends of hers; I knew them well enough. She put her arm around my shoulder, “You look... giddy. Unnaturally so.”

I shrugged, “Just had a few drinks backstage.”

“Backstage, Frannie?” one of the girls said - Sasha, “Do tell.”

“I know the band,” I shrugged, “They stop by the diner I work at. A lot.”

The group had ordered a feast of appetizers and I was glad to see a basket of mozzarella sticks and marinara in front of me. I turned in the booth as the lights dimmed a bit and the boys took the stage.

_Mary was a performer. Once he hit that stage it was almost like being blackout drunk. He was absorbed in the music and the crowd and the lights and the heat. It was like good sex. He never forgot a word, never stumbled through his lyrics or missed a chord. He was focused and confident._

_But tonight - tonight Frannie smiled at him, leaning against the bar. She looked like a goddess - smelled like one when he was standing next to her in the hallway. Her skin glowed in the shitty, yellow lights of the bar. And thank fuck he had a guitar in front of him to hide the hard on he’d had since she licked the blood off his face. Now she, maybe a little drunk, smiled and winked at him before walking back to the table, gracefully balancing a tray of drinks. Someone said something and she threw her head back and laughed._

_Mary had to look away before he forgot everything._

I walked up to the bar once more, ordering a Malibu - something fruity and cold - the building was sweltering. The boys had finished their set and had disappeared backstage. There was a gaggle of girls waiting at the stage door for them before the last song had even finished. I doubted that I’d see them, again. I reached into my back pocket and felt a hand on my wrist, “Put it on my tab,” I turned to see Mary and smiled.

“That was really good,” I smiled, “I mean, I have no idea what you were staying but, color me impressed.”

“What the fuck is that,” he jerked his head towards the orange and cranberry juice, turning my drink pink.

“It’s a Malibu,” I picked it up, swirling the drink with my straw.

Mary bent over a took a swig, his lips brushing my fingers, “That is pure sugar.”

“Yeah, pretty much. But I’m roasting and it’s cold.”

“We, uh, ordered some pizza,” he said, still holding onto my wrist. He ran his thumb over the soft, sensitive skin there and I felt my cheeks burn a bit, “If you wanna come hang out. You can bring your friends. Evan always orders way too much food.”

I smiled, “He can never finish his pancakes.”

Mary smirked, “Yeah, well, try getting him to order the Queen stack, though,” Mary stared at me for a moment longer, the corner of his mouth turning upward, “Come on.”

My entourage was impressed that we had been invited to stay and party with the band; we had made plans to hit up a few clubs before calling it a night. I sat on a speaker with a slice of pizza on a flimsy paper plate and a beer between my legs. I was a bit on the quiet side but, happy to be here with my friends – they all chatted happily with the band – including me when they could but, much more knowledgeable of the music scene than I was.

But I was busy enough avoiding Mary’s blazing eye contact. He was good at it. And while I wanted to maintain it – I couldn’t without smiling like an idiot. It had been a long time since I’d had any attention from a man who wasn’t a drunk customer at the diner. And the last one I’d had... had been a long time ago. There had been a lot of romance novels and one new vibrator between then and now. And I was feeling it. The burn. The ache. The _yearning_. Throw some guitars and alcohol into the mix and I was well on my way to making questionable decisions. I met Mary’s eyes once more and this time, he gave me a wink and I swallowed my mouthful of pizza, “I need... uh, I’m gonna go smoke,” I said to Lucy who was sitting next to Evan, talking quietly. They were definitely going home together.

“You don’t smoke,” Lucy raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, um... just need some fresh air,” I waived her off, hopping off the stage and heading for the door.

Outside, it was raining – the good kind of solid rain that put me right to sleep if I left the bedroom window crack. It was fall – still warm out but, if the breeze came up it was cold – threatening the months to come. It came straight down and made the city smell a bit fresher for a few hours. I leaned against the brick building beneath the awning and breathed in the night air; I exhaled with a sigh, a little buzzed, a little horny but, in a good mood. It had been a long time since I’d been out, “Can I join you?” I turned to see Mary, cigarette between his lips.

“Oh, sure,” I said, scooting over a bit to share the dry space.

“Did you... need a cigarette?” he held the open pack towards me.

“What? Oh,” I chewed on my lip, “I don’t smoke... I needed some fresh air. I was just... really hot.”

Mary raised an eyebrow but, said nothing – lighting the cigarette that he held between his lips. Those full, perfect completely kissable lips, “You’re staring,” he said.

I snapped my head towards the street and panicked as red-hot heat crept across my face. For a few moments, we were silent. I was staring at the street, watching the rain run down the sides of it. I gnawed on my lip, trying to think of _something_ to say. Be clever. Be funny. And then Mary flicked is cigarette out into the street, “Fuck it,” he said, and stepped in front of me, taking my face in his hands.

And he kissed me.

And I melted.

I held onto Mary’s arms so I wouldn’t completely lose my balance and fall over like a tree. Mary’s thumb caressed my cheek and I moaned a little – Mary smiled. He pulled away for second, “Shoulda done that a long fuckin’ time ago.”

“Yeah,” I said, a little breathless, “Don’t... uh... don’t stop, yeah?”

“Don’t have to tell me twice, baby,” he smiled before resuming – I snuck my arms around his waist and pulled him close, his hips coming to meet mine. I could taste the stage blood and his cigarette. I’m sure he could taste the plethora of booze I’d imbibed. We both came up for air, Mary’s lips trailing across my jaw.

“Hey, you two,” Lucy’s voice made me jump and Mary grinned but, he didn’t let go of my face as we turned to look at Lucy who was quickly joined by everyone else, “We’re gonna hit up a few other bars – maybe a club or two, you guys in? Or are you... busy?”

I returned my gaze to Mary, “Up to you, sweet cheeks,” Mary released my face and took my hand in his; lacing our fingers together.

“We’ll come,” I smiled, “For a bit.”


	3. Chapter 3

Mary leaned against my door while I attempted to put the key into the lock, “Any day, princess,” he said, his finger sneaking along my cheek.

I giggled, “Ah... finally,” I unlocked the door and pushed it open – Mary promptly falling inside.

We had gone to three other bars and one very loud club. I had entirely too much fun and entirely too much to drink. Mary, too. He had walked me home with a lanky arm over my shoulder, running from cover-to-cover to avoid the rain though we still ended up sopping wet. Now, he was in my entryway on his hands and knees – crawling into my apartment, “This is really nice, Frannie,” he said, looking around, “I mean, if I didn’t have the fucking spins, it’d be really nice.”

“You’re boots,” I said, shutting the door with my hip, “They’re muddy! Come here.”

Mary turned over onto his back, propping himself up on his elbows, “Help.”

I grabbed onto his boot and yanked it, stumbling backwards, “One,” I grinned, burping a bit, trying to ignore the fact that I was really queasy. I slid Mary’s other boot off with a triumphant smile, “Two!”

“You’re looking kinda green, sweets,” Mary laid his head down on the carpet, closing his eyes.

“Yeah,” I hiccupped, sinking to my hands and knees and crawling past Mary, “I am,” I headed for the bathroom, “Please, help yourself to the kitchen or the couch or the bed.”

“Where you goin’?”

“I just gotta barf real quick, Mary Goore, then I’m all yours,” I bonked my head on the wall, missing the bathroom doorway by a few inches, “Ow.”

_Mary wasn’t sure if he could make it to the bathroom without hurling so he just laid on the floor and decided to wait out the spins and the nausea on the soft carpet. They had had entirely too much to drink and his feet hurt from dancing, “Fuck,” he groaned; he never danced. Tonight, had been an exception – with Frannie pulling on his hand and her bottom lip sticking out, he couldn’t have said no. He looked around, acutely aware of how clean the place was, how cozy the living room looked. The toilet flushed and Mary heard Frannie brushing her teeth, “You okay?” he called and a few seconds later she shuffled out in her bra and underwear and Mary’s jaw dropped._

_She didn’t answer him – she just shuffled from the bathroom to her bedroom, “She’s too drunk, Goore,” he rubbed his eyes until he saw stars, “Fuck, you’re too drunk,” A few minutes later, she appeared in sweatpants and a hoodie, “Here,” she said, holding out a pair of grey sweats, “I’m gonna be straight up with you, Mary Goore. This isn’t how I imagined this night going but, I’m gonna hurl again if I don’t go to bed.”_

_Mary stood up, slowly, “I should just head out, now that you’re at home.”_

_“It’s raining,” she stared at him, unaware that some folks just had to deal with the weather, “And you’re drunk,” and that others had to deal with the weather and inebriation, “At least stay until the rain stops.”_

_Mary stared at her for a moment – she was pretty even if she had a green tint to her. He took the pants, “Thanks.”_


	4. Chapter 4

I sat in bed, watching TV and sipping Red Bull from a crazy straw.

I had decided that today might be a self-care day. I deserved it, after all – severe hangover _and_ I didn’t even get laid. Scratch that. Didn’t even get laid by the guy I had been planning to get laid by who I _literally had in my bed all night long._

Mary Goore was gone by the time I had opened my crusty, hungover eyes. No note. No phone number. Just a pair of neatly folded sweatpants and a pillow that smelled faintly of cigarettes.

So, I smeared on a face mask, put on my comfiest (and somehow ugliest) pajamas and bathrobe, nursed myself back to health with energy drinks and junk food and watched Judge Judy. My phone buzzed on my lap, “Hey, Lucy.”

“So, how was he?”

“Too drunk to get it up and gone by morning. I’m sure me puking didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Nooooooo,” Lucy said dramatically.

“How was your night?” I asked – Lucy and I had parted ways with our respective “dates” and I hadn’t heard from her since.

“Um, well, Evan came home with me,” I could hear the smile in her voice, “Plus, one of the bartenders from the last bar.”

“You got two dicks and I got none,” I squealed with jealousy.

“Hey, I told you to lay off the booze, sister,” she laughed, “But yes. I got two.”

“Ugh,” I groaned, throwing the blankets off of me and heading to the kitchen to hunt down some more comfort food, “I gotta go. There’s a package of Oreos around here that’s calling my name.”

“Are you replacing sex with food, Frannie?” Lucy asked.

“No,” I grunted, holding the phone to my shoulder with my cheek and shuffling through the cabinets, “Yes.”

“You’ll get a zit if you keep it up. Consider it a warning. I gotta go! Love you. Sorry about your sad vagina.”

“Yeah, yeah. Talk to you later,” I said and hung up, tossing my phone into my pocket – sighing when I saw a bit of face mask smeared on the screen. I found my Oreos and poured myself a glass of milk before shuffling back to my room – until I heard it. The telltale sound of my shitty, wooden framed window squeaking up the sill, “Oh my _god,_ ” I hissed, running towards the closet and grabbing the baseball bat there. It was wrapped in barbed wire and given to me by my cousin, half joke and half gift of home protection, I lifted it and walked back to my bedroom. I heard a grunt and the sound of two feet hitting the floor. I took a deep breath and jumped into the doorway, “Let’s go, motherfucker!”

Mary Goore screamed, dropping whatever was in the bag and struggling to keep a hold of the two coffees, “Jesus FUCKING Christ!” he yelled and I screamed – mostly in fear and surprise, a little bit because I probably looked completely nutters, “What the hell?”

“What the hell?” I squeaked, “I’m the one who should be saying, what the hell!” We stared at each other for a moment, “So, what the hell?!”

“I went to get coffee and donuts,” Mary said, picking up the brown bag from the floor, “But I locked myself out. And then some stuff came up. So here I am – coffee and donuts.”

“You could have knocked,” I said, leaning against the doorframe, “I almost peed my pants.”

“What, uh... what’s on your face,” he asked, keeping his distance.

“Oh _god,”_ I panicked, remembering the face mask and bolting for the bathroom, “OH GOD.”

By the time I returned, Mary was in the sweatpants once more, in my bed – as if he had never left, “Hey, you’re normal,” he said through a mouthful of donut.

I leaned against the doorframe and folded my arms, “Make yourself at home, by all means,” I said.

“Hey,” Mary paused, staring at me, “Cute outfit, first of all,” he said and I swallowed, aware that it might be _cute_ but it was also _ugly,_ “Second, I had planned on sneaking out and coming back right away this morning and fucking you till the cows came home but, shit happens, toots and I wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to get into those... fuzzy... hot pink... are those shorts? What the fuck are you wearing?”

“You came back to... have,” I lowered my voice, “Sex?”

Mary mocked my tone, his eyes wide, “Yeah.”

“With... me?”

“I ain’t fuckin’ your pillow.”

“Oh.”

I stared at him – sexy as hell, _in my bed,_ “What?” he asked.

“I just... you left and then came all the way back here?” I asked again, feeling stupid but, despite his bluntness – I was flattered.

“Just get in bed, Frannie,” Mary sighed, flicking through the channels, “We’ll get to the dickin’ in a bit,” I snorted but, obeyed, crawling in next to Mary – I sat up straight, suddenly aware of how _not_ hot I looked, “You like cinnamon rolls? Or Bismarcks? I got raspberry.”

“Raspberry, please,” I said and Mary reached into the greasy bag and handed me a giant, raspberry filled donut. I took a bite and smiled, moaning a bit. And then I paused. Staring at the shirtless beauty next to me. And I started to giggle.

“What?” Mary asked, staring at his chest, trying to find where he might have dripped, wiping his mouth.

“No, no,” I snorted, “You’re fine – honest.”

“Then what, chucklefritz?”

“Just... I was just thinking that this is probably the most romantic thing any guy has ever done except...,” I started to laugh, again, “Except you just said “we’ll get to the dickin’” and I can’t... I can’t handle it.”

_Mary stared at Frannie, who was wiping away tears as she laughed. Perhaps this was one of the most stupid things he’d done – fuck, Mary Goore? Climbing into windows with coffee and donuts for a girl he hadn’t even fucked... yet. But god. Shit. She was pretty. Even with no makeup and traces of that green face mask in her hair, she was pretty. And that laugh. He smiled – involuntarily, it crept across his face – maybe he should run. Maybe he should jump out the window and never show up on this side of town again._

_Nah._

_He sat his coffee and the bag of donuts on the nightstand and took Frannie’s donut out her hand, “What?” she asked, sucking some icing off of her thumb – Mary’s dick flared to life as he watched her lips pop off of her finger._

_“We were really drunk last night, huh?” he asked, his heart pounding in his chest._

_“Yeah.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_Frannie was on him in a second – her mouth crushing down on his, sending him into a tailspin as he sunk into her comfy pillows and fuzzy blankets, engulfed in the smell of her – clean, soapy and like flowers. She moaned against his lips and he nipped at hers. Mary worked at the bathrobe, trying desperately to get through the layers of fluff and find the knot that held it together, finally he got it open to reveal a sweatshirt and the hot pink pair of fuzzy shorts, “Jesus Christ, woman – how many layers?”_

_Frannie smiled – struggling to get the robe off, “I didn’t know you were coming back,” she said, throwing the robe over her shoulder and peeling off her sweatshirt, Mary sighed in relief when there was nothing underneath, “Let alone planning on...,” she grinned, “This.”_

_“Oh, baby,” Mary grinned wildly before flipping them both over, pinning Frannie on her back – her legs instantly wrapping around his waist, “Been thinkin’ about this for a long time.”_

_She ran his hands through his hair and his eyes fluttered shut for a minute, “Really?” she asked, suddenly a bit quiet._

_Mary pushed his hand beneath the waistband of her shorts and groaned, happily, when he was met with hot, wet, “Frannie,” he sighed, pulling his fingers out, now shiny and slick, he slid them into his mouth, “Like... honey,” Frannie paused for a moment, her eyes widening and pupils dilating as she watched Mary slip his fingers into his mouth and suck off her own slick, “You like that?” he asked and she nodded._

_“Pants... your pants are still on,” she managed to choke out, “My pants are still on.”_

_“I can fix that,” Mary grinned, peeling off Frannie’s shorts in one, fell swoop. He flipped her on her stomach and she squealed, sticking her ass in the air. She managed to breath out Mary’s name once as he dove into her, his tongue pushing as deep as he could, “Goddamn, Frannie. I could eat you all day,” he said, biting her ass cheek and making her jump._

I was drooling by the time Mary’s dick was pressed at my pussy – my thighs slickened from Mary’s very, _very_ talented tongue, “Oh, please,” I whined, “Please, _please.”_

Mary sunk into me so slowly I thought I might die. For a skinny, little shit he was big enough to stretch me and make me see stars when he bottomed out, “Oh, god... should have done this a long fuckin’ time ago.”

I mumbled incoherently into the pillow. Mary’s thighs shook, I could feel them against my backside as he picked up the pace – sliding his hand down my back and knotting it into my hair, pulling me upright so that my back as pressed up against his front, “Don’t... _stop,_ ” I pleaded as his grip on my hair tightened and his pace became harder and more erratic.

“You like it rough, Frannie?” he asked and I moaned in response. Mary’s hand came up around my throat, “You’re so pretty and so fuckin’ sweet... I would have never thought,” he said, squeezing until I started to wheeze. His lips sucked on my ear and along my jawline, “So perfect for me – so wet. You take me so fuckin’ good.”

“Mary... I... I’m... I-I’m gonna -,” I swear I went cross-eyed and Mary angled his hips and went even harder – I came, shaking and whining and panting. My neighbors pounded on the wall and Mary let go of my neck to pound back.

“She’s gettin’ a dickin’!” he yelled and in the middle of it all, I managed a laugh as Mary’s arm snaked around my torso, holding me close, “You on the pill, pretty?” he grunted more than he asked.

“IUD.”

“Thank-fucking-Satan,” Mary ran his teeth along the curve of my neck, biting down enough to make me melt – he came, the both of us shaking and sweating and out of breath.

I flopped down onto the pillows with a happy sigh, turning over as Mary did the same – he yawned dramatically, before rolling over, “Night, toots.”

“I... I’m sorry?” I asked, completely confused while sudden disappointment washing over me, “What the fuck?”

“Yeah, I gotta work tonight. Need some sleep.”

I stared at Mary’s back – the freckles across his shoulders were oddly innocent, “What the fuck?” I repeated myself.

And then Mary snorted. And he rolled over, laughing – his smile wide and his eyes squinched shut, “You should see your face,” he said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me down to his lips.

I slapped his chest, before snuggling into him, “Asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed.

“Do you have to work tonight?” I asked.

“Nope.”

“Me, either,” I grinned and Mary looked down at me, “Stay for a while?”

“Sure thing, toots.”


	5. Chapter 5

Three weeks later, Mary Goore had left my house but he certainly had not left my life.

Every morning, he greeted me at the cafe – both of us tired from a long night of work. When Mary didn’t have a show, he tended bar at a few places and bounced at a few others. If he was lucky, he said, he worked backstage at a few other bars. As tired as he was, he always showed up with a six pack under his arm and a grin on his face. He walked with his arm over my shoulders and his lips on any exposed skin he could find.

This morning was no different, “Aren’t you tired?” I asked, though I didn’t try to pull away. I snaked my arm around his waist as we walked.

“I’ve always got energy for you, baby,” he crooned – though his eyelids were heavy and his voice gravelly with exhaustion.

I hummed in happy acceptance, “Well, Mr. Goore,” I said, fishing my keys out of my coat pocket, “I had a twenty-five top of Mormons come in two hours ago and, frankly, I’m whooped.”

“Oh, thank god,” Mary said, kicking off his boots and pealing off his clothes as he walked to the bedroom, “Of course, Frannie, I’ll eat you out. You’re my favorite bedtime snack,” he said from the bedroom, his pants flying out into the hallway, followed by his boxers, “I’m never gonna not do that but, I’m fuckin’ tired.”

I followed the trail of ripped, studded, patched clothes to the bedroom and founded Mary crawling in – a dark bruise on his ribs, “Mare!”

“Idiot frat boys. Fuckers must have been on ‘roids.”

“You need some Tylenol?” I asked, crawling into bed next to him, holding up his arm to inspect, “Ice? I can call a cab and we can go to urgent care.”

Mary rolled his eyes and pulled me onto his lap, “I’ve had a lot worse, toots,” he said, pushing my hair behind my ears, “You’re sweet.”

I ran my thumb over his chin, admiring the stubble that was growing, “I worry about you.”

Mary scoffed, “I dished out a lot worse, too.”

“I should see the other guy, huh?”

Mary grinned, “You should see the other guy.”

“Can I get you anything?”

Mary pulled a beer from the nightstand and twisted off the top, throwing it back into the cardboard case, “The only thing I need is you naked, sitting on my face.”

“That can be arranged,” I said, straddling Mary and going to work on the buttons of my uniform. Mary watched as I pulled it off with a sigh. I peeled off the t-shirt underneath it and then, reached around to undo my bra, “God, that feels good,” I said, tossing the pile of clothes over my head, Mary’s hands were already rubbing the red marks my bra had left and I closed my eyes and let my head fall back with a happy sigh.

“That good, huh?” he asked.

“Mmhmm,” I moaned with a grin.

“Okay, alright – don’t cream your panties,” he said, squirming down until my knees were around his shoulders, “Speaking of panties, why do you still have these on?” he asked, snapping the waistband.

“Tired,” I said, pushing my hips towards his mouth, “That would involve me standing up, bending over, taking them off, getting back in bed, getting _back_ on top of you. _Ugh._ ”

“The absolute fuckin’ horror,” Mary smiled before he hooked a finger around the crotch of my underwear and pulled them aside. I tried not to buck my hips as his knuckle grazed over my clit, “Always so sensitive,” he said, “Shall we?”

“We shall.”

Ten, long, glorious minutes later I fell over onto the pillows with a groan of content, “I have never fuckin’ jizzed myself without touching,” Mary grinned down at the puddle of cum on his belly, “Congratulations, Frannie-baby. You have the most perfect pussy I have ever had the pleasure of sucking on.”

I slapped Mary’s chest with the back of my hand, my eyes closed and refusing to open, “Perv.”

“I’m a perv for you,” Mary said, grabbing my uniform from the floor and cleaning himself up before rolling over and pulling the blankets over the both of us. He nuzzled into my side and pulled me close, “Night, Fran.”

“Night, Mare.”

Life with Mary was like that – cigarettes and beer, foul language and near constant sex. He went home every few days, when our schedules didn’t quite match up but, he always returned and I was always relieved to see him. It wasn’t quite always carnal relations and drinking. Mary and I just got along. He made me laugh and I _loved_ to hear him laugh. We were stupid together.

I’d lived alone for a long time and, while I was _alone –_ I was never _lonely._

Now, it seemed I didn’t want to go more than a shift at work without him. I was addicted. Not only to the sex – that was _amazing._ Mary was rough around the edges but, he was attentive. And sweet. And just having him around was... nice.

I woke up a few hours later – we had forgotten to shut the blinds and pull the blackout curtains closed. I did so – plunging the room into darkness. Mary was sound asleep and I sighed, kissing his messy hair before heading to the bathroom. I started the shower, rubbing my neck while the water heated. It had been a long night at work, “Hey,” Mary said from the doorway, “Why’re you awake?”

“Eh,” I shrugged, “Just need a hot shower.”

“Can I join?”

“You think I’d say no?” I grinned.

I stepped in the shower and pulled Mary in with me, both of us sighing in relief as we warmed up, “C’mere,” Mary turned me around and made sure that my hair was fully soaked. He squirted some shampoo onto his hands and went to work.

“They say guitarists have like, good hands, you know,” I mumbled, enjoying the massage, “But, they don’t say what for. This,” I smirked, “This is what for.”

“Do not tell anyone.”

“Deal.”

Mary rinsed my hair but, continued his work – rubbing the knots out of my neck and then my shoulders, “Damn, Frannie – that long of a night?”

“Just busy.”

“You’ve had a lot of busy nights.”

“Yeah, but I make bank. And Joey and I work well together. It’s not so bad,” I turned around and wrapped my arms around Mary’s neck, smiling at his hair – plastered to his forehead, “Sometimes this band comes in. One of the guys is super-hot. I think he’s the lead singer. He’s pretty quiet but, I think he likes me. He tips well.”

“Oh, really? Super-hot?” Mary smirked.

I yawned, “Yeah. But,” I shrugged, pushing Mary’s hair out of his eyes, my other hand running down his torso, “I, uh,” I gave his already half-hard cock a stroke, “I can’t put a finger on him – he’s just so quiet. He stares, a lot. My boss says he has a crush on me.”

“Your boss has a crush on you?” Mary pushed me up against the tile wall.

“Mare,” I gave him a look.

“I know what you meant,” Mary said, in one quick swoop, he lifted me up and onto him. I gasped and then sighed in pleasure at the stretch that always accompanied being filled by Mary.

“Oh, god,” I said, clinging to him, “I wasn’t finished poking the bear, damn.”

“Yeah, well – it’s my turn to do the poking.”

I rolled my eyes, “Oh _god,_ ” I laughed.

Mary and I shuffled to the kitchen, rosy cheeked and wrapped up in towels, “Food,” Mary grunted.

“Mmhmm.”

“Pop-Tart?” he asked, holding up the blue box of cherry pastries.

“Please,” I yawned.

“You need to go to back to bed, toots,” Mary tossed me the foil package and I shrugged, heading for the couch, flopping down onto it unceremoniously.

_Mary watched Frannie fall onto the couch. She held onto the Pop-Tart but, didn’t open it. She still had a towel wrapped around her middle and one in her hair and could barely keep her eyes open. Her work ethic impressed Mary but, some mornings she came home so tired he wondered if it was worth it. Maybe he was a bit jealous of the seven or eight hours of attention she gave to her work and Joey. Surely, she could work a shorter shift and come home sooner. He sighed – every once in a while, he was reminded how deep in he was with Fran. He walked over to the couch and pulled the soft blanket off the back of it, covering her up. She was already sound asleep. He kissed her head but, headed to find his clothes, “Stay,” she mumbled, attempting to catch his hand._

_“Nah, Fran,” he knelt down, “I should go home for a bit. Let you rest. It’s clear you can’t handle the proximity of my dick.”_

_“Ha. Ha.”_

_“You sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he said, kissing her cheek._

_“Just a couple hours,” she hummed, “I sleep better when we’re snuggled.”_

_“I don’t snuggle.”_

_“You totally snuggle,” she smirked, her eyes still closed, she held up the blanket and Mary rolled his eyes and slipped in next to her. He turned on the television and rolled over, Frannie squished against the couch and his back, her arms coming around his waist, “S’nice,” she sighed and then, almost instantly, her breathing slowed and Mary knew she was asleep again._

_And he smiled._


	6. Chapter 6

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Mary growled into his cell phone.

I stood close to him, the hustle and bustle of backstage was a little overwhelming and I slipped my hand into Mary’s, trying to stay close and out of the way. Despite being clearly pissed, he wrapped his arm around my waist and held me close while he shouted into his phone, “You said you’d be here, asshole!”

I looked around, feeling out of place in Mary’s leather jacket over my work uniform. I had worked a few hours and then busted my ass to get to the venue before he went on – only to realize I’d left my change of clothes at the diner. So be it, I wasn’t uncomfortable, just underdressed. Mary shoved his phone into his pocket, “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothin’ you need to worry your pretty little face about,” he said, kissing me, a bit rough.

“Tell me?”

“Ah, just my idiot merch guy – he’s a no-show, again,” Mary sighed, “I’ll find some desperate groupie to work it.”

“I could work the booth,” I said, “I’m, technically, a desperate groupie.”

“You’re not a groupie,” Mary grinned down at me.

I shrugged, “Really, I don’t mind. I get a good seat and free drinks, right?”

“You, uh, get that anyway, Fran.”

“I’ll run your merch, booth, Mare.”

Mary stared at me for a second, “You’d do that for me?”

“Eh,” I sighed, “You’ll owe me.”

Mary left me at the merch table – piled high with t-shirts, cassettes and a few CDs. Most of it, Mary had designed and decorated himself. He was talented and I was jealous of his artistic skills. I could barely draw a stick figure when we played hangman, “Uh, you know – sell shit,” Mary had said, “If someone tries to steal something you flag down the bartender. I told him to keep an eye on you. And then you just... I don’t know... whack em with your shoe.”

“I’ll be fine, Mare,” I winked, “I upsell banana splits to drunk people all night, I think I can manage a few spooky t-shirts.”

“You think my shit is spooky?” Mary grinned.

“You’re spooky,” I said, turning him back towards the stage, avoiding the blood that ran down his neck, “Go, you’re gonna be late.”

“Thanks, Fran! I’ll eat you out for like, an hour tonight,” he hollered and laughed as my face turned beat red.

Two hours later, I was buzzed, sweaty and had cash in all my pockets and my bra. Mary was just as sweaty as he approached, handing me a bottle of beer, “Oh, thank you,” I sighed and took a long, cold swig.

“Where’s all the shit,” Mary asked, eyeing the box on the table – it two t-shirts and one cassette, “Fran?”

“I sold it all, butthole.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did and you’re welcome,” I pulled cash out of every pocket I had it stashed in, “Oh,” I grabbed a white tee from the chair behind me, “I’m keeping this for myself,” I grinned. It had a hand drawn portrait of Mary, with demon wings, fangs and claws, “I love it.”

Mary stood with wads of cash in his hand while I gathered my things, “Fran, babydoll, where’s my stuff – really?”

“Mary,” I laughed, “I sold it. You’re going to have to accept, sooner or later, that I’m a badass.”

“Well, shit,” Mary laughed, “I’ve never sold out. Ever!”

I grinned and wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him in spite of his sweaty, sloppy blood, “Mama didn’t raise no bitch,” I giggled, “Take me home, Mary Goore. I’m in need of sleep and a good dickin’.”

Mary smiled that irresistible, toothy grin, his eyes flashing, “A woman after my own heart.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Mary Goore.”

“Yeah.”

_“Mary Goore.”_

_“Yeah, baby.”_

“MARY GOORE!”

“YEAH BABY!”

I laughed hysterically while Mary ate me out in the bathroom stall, yelling in pleasure and hilarity, in the back of the club. I could feel Mary’s smile and the hot huffs of breath as he giggled, “I’m gonna... I’m gon,” I said, coming down a bit, my brain focusing once more on the tongue and two fingers going to town on me “Mary – don’t – stop.”

“Hey! Some of us have to piss!” a voice caught me off guard and I slapped both hands over my smile as I came on Mary’s perfect mouth.

“I’m working here,” Mary yelled over the muffled bass that shook the walls.

“Get a fucking room,” the girl growled but, didn’t say anything else.

I stood, on wobbly legs with a shit-eating grin on my face, “You’re turn?” I asked.

“Oh, I’m not gonna mess up those pretty little knees on this nasty floor,” Mary cupped my face and kissed me, his tongue parting my lips and I sighed, running my hands through his hair. Melting as his hands snuck back up my dress.

“Mare,” I smiled against his lips.

“Yeah, toots,” he said, eyes closed, hips pushing against mine.

“People are gonna start pissing their pants if we don’t get out of here.”

_Mary let Frannie lead him back out into the club – it wasn’t necessarily his type of place but, it had been a friend of a friend’s birthday and Frannie liked to dance and he could hardly deny her these days. They rarely went out on her behalf – it was usually dark, smoke filled holes-in-the-wall where Mary had was working or playing. Besides, he was about to head out of town for the weekend for a gig and she had already committed to covering for another girl at work – it would be the first time since they’d been together that they wouldn’t see each other for an “extended” period of time. Extended being approximately two days and thirteen hours, Frannie had counted and maybe, just maybe, Mary had already known that._

_He was going to miss her, though. He wished she could have come but, she had assured him she would be busy enough plus, her Aunt had asked her to come over for dinner so, she’d have plenty to do. That was the one thing they hadn’t talked much about – Frannie’s family. He knew that her parents were dead and that she had an older brother in prison. Her aunt had raised her. That was about it. She didn’t seem to want to divulge more and Mary hadn’t pushed it. His own past wasn’t a fairy tale and the two seemed content in knowing that things had been crap and now they weren’t._

_She turned back and smiled at him, pulling him back onto the dance floor. He rolled his eyes but followed – secretly enjoying himself when Frannie wrapped her arms around his neck and proceeded to grind against him. She had pulled a slinky dress out of the back of her closet and it was nearly a second skin – Mary ran his hands over her ass and up her waist, “Maybe we should just go home?” he said over the music, “My dick is about to explode.”_

_Frannie laughed, her chest sparkling with sweat and glitter from some stupid cannon the DJ had set off earlier, “It’s barely midnight, Cinderella,” she smirked, “Let’s get a drink!”_

I was having a really good time. I never knew an orgasm in a club bathroom was what a gal needed but, hey, here I was – sweaty, covered in glitter and hanging on handsome Mary’s arm. He led me toward the bar and then stopped, “Oh, fuck,” Mary grinned, “C’mere.”

He pulled me away from the drinks and towards the stairs that led to the VIP table, “Mare?” I asked, though I wasn’t really surprised he might know someone at the spendy tables lining the balcony above the dance floor. Two bouncers stood next to the red, velvet barricade and Mary pointed to the far booth in the corner. There was only one man and about six women.

“Who is _that_?” I asked Mary.

“Someone I want you to meet,” he grinned, as the man waved at Mary, the corner of his mouth turning up. He was bald and wore a pair of aviators despite being in one of the darkest corners of the club. H wore a white button up, undone at the collar and sleeves rolled up a bit. He _looked_ expensive. And intense.

The bouncers let us in and Mary pulled me along, “Do I look okay?” I asked, noticing that the women at the table were all, frankly, top notch.

Mary rolled his eyes, “You kidding me?”

“Mary Goore,” the man said as we approached, stretching his arms out on the back of the booth.

“It’s been a long time, Papa,” Mary grinned.

“Too long,” the man was staring at Mary and then his head turned, ever-so-slightly to stare at me and I latched onto Mary’s hand, “And who is this goddess before me?”

“This is Frannie,” Mary said, proudly and I blushed – throwing his arm around my shoulder, “Best thing since sliced bread,” he pressed a loud, sloppy kiss to my temple.

“Mare,” I said, “It’s nice to meet you,” I smiled.

“Papa Emeritus the Second,” Mary said in my ear, “Very cool. Very hot. Very fuckable,” my eyes shot from Papa to Mary, I’m sure wide as saucers.

“You guys... used to be a thing?” I asked.

Mary snorted, staring at me for a moment before returning his gaze to Papa, “She’s perfect. But she’s also the most vanilla person I’ve ever met.”

Papa was still staring at me, “Vanilla is one of my favorite flavors, Mary. So much... potential.”

“Nah, hold your horses, old man,” Mary winked at him, “She’s not ready for the both of us.”

“I would like to be the first to know when she is,” Papa said, as one of his women topped off his glass of wine, “Won’t you two join us for a drink or two?”

“Oh,” Mary stared at me and I shrugged, “We could stay for one,” Mary said, eyeing me – I didn’t mind but, he could tell I was nervous. Shy, at least.

“Scoot, scoot,” Papa said, flapping his hands at the girls who pouted a bit, glancing – annoyed – at us, “Sit next to me, my dove,” Papa patted the space next to him.

We slid into the booth and Mary practically turned me into a Mary and Papa sandwich when he reached over me to give the man’s leg a squeeze, “Missed ya.”

Papa only continued to smirk, “What would you like to drink, Frannie? Whatever you would like.”

“She likes fruity shit,” Mary said, popping the top off of a bottle of vodka he pulled from the ice bucket in the middle of table, “Give her a pineapple soaked in sugar and vodka and she’d be happy.”

“Mary,” Papa raised an eyebrow, “Have you forgotten your table manners already?”

“Sorry, Papa,” Mary said, pulling the bottle from his lips and pouring himself a glass.

My head snapped back to Papa, “Teach me everything,” I giggled.

“In time, I think,” Papa patted my thigh and left his hand there. I looked up at him and smiled – maybe a little drunk, maybe a little horny – my confidence growing as Mary snaked an arm around my shoulders, scooting as close as he could.

“Oh, this is just gonna be... this is gonna be good,” Mary stared at us, smiling from ear-to-ear.

Papa and Mary talked for a long time – catching up, reminiscing. It seemed that they had had quite the relationship, if you could call it that. I had no idea that Mary swung that way but, then again, I wasn’t surprised. It was just the pairing of brash, vulgar Mary with this seemingly perfect Papa was... a strange one. But, then again, they seemed to get along quite well – it was a mirror of our own pairing: easy going and fun with a large dollop of sex on top. While Papa’s hand left my thigh after a while, Mary’s hands did not and I was reveling in the attention from him – even if he wasn’t talking to me.

Two hours later, the club was still in full swing. Mary was talking to some other folks in the VIP section – he always knew everyone. Mary kept glancing over to me, that perfect grin on his face and he would wink or wiggle his tongue at me, “The boy is in love, I think,” Papa said, clinking his glass against mine.

“Yeah,” I sighed, gazing at Mary – his plaid boxers were showing above his too tight jeans and his shirt clung to his shoulders just enough to remind me of the stringy muscles beneath it, “Wait... what?”

Papa chuckled, “He cannot keep his eyes off of you.”

“That doesn’t mean much.”

“Ah,” Papa held up a finger, “I’ve known Mary for quite a long time. And the way he’s looking at you... he’s in love.”

“I... oh.”

“Of course, our scary Mary would not ever admit it. Not yet.”

“And maybe it’s too soon to tell,” I swallowed.

“Maybe.”

If I wasn’t drunk by then, in another hour I was. Mary had wormed his way back into the booth and pulled me onto his lap and tossed off my shoes – rubbing the red lines the straps had made, “You smell nice,” he mumbled against my neck, “Booze and sex and my cigarettes.”

“My perfume is way too expensive for you not to mention,” I turned my face to kiss him and he grinned.

“Sweat it all off, toots,” he said, rubbing the spot on my wrist where I had dabbed perfume, “Did smell nice, though.”

“Mmhhm,” I sighed against his lips and he ran his hand up my leg, “Mare.”

“I think I’m gonna take Frannie home,” Mary said, pulling away from me, his eyes were practically glowing with sex.

“Pity.”

“Maybe for you,” Mary winked, “You still have my number, yeah?” Mary asked.

“I can always find you,” Papa held his glass up.

“Yeah, I figure,” Mary said, “C’mon Frannie,” Mary patted my ass and we made our way out of the booth once more.

“Pleasure to meet you,” I said to Papa, smiling.

“Oh, I assure you, the pleasure will be mine,” he said and I blanched.

“God, Papa. Give her more than a few hours, yeah?” Mary said, pulling me flush against him.

“I’ll be in touch, Mary,” Papa said, though he was staring at me.

Half an hour later, we were home. Mary and I had picked up a couple of burgers and sat on my bed in our underwear, munching happily. I sat back with my milkshake and stared at the whip cream, “Mare?”

“Yeah, babe,” he said, dunking his fries in some hot sauce.

“Am I... like... boring? In bed?”

“Oh, god no. Fuck no. You’re great,” Mary stared at me for a second, “Why?”

I shrugged, “No reason.”

_A slow smile crept across Mary’s face while he watched Frannie push her straw around in her shake, “Papa and his entourage can be intimidating.”_

_“Oh my god,” she started in without skipping a beat, “Okay so Papa is cool, yes. Hot, yes. But those girls were... beautiful! Like, he had an entire goth, Victoria Secret fashion show at that booth Mare! I felt like a piglet.”_

_“Oh, now, just wait a goddam second, Fran,” he said, shoving the last of his fries into his mouth. He crawled up and straddled her – she stared at him with those big doe eyes, milkshake still in hand, “You are way hotter than any of those Satanic bimbos Papa keeps on hand.”_

_“Satanic... bimbos?” she smirked and Mary planted a quick kiss on her lips._

_“I said it.”_

_“I don’t think I’m hotter than any of those girls. I mean, I’ll toot my own horn – I’m hot. But I look like Quasimodo compared to them.”_

_Mary rolled his eyes, “Fran. I ate you out in the fuckin’ bathroom. I can’t go more than twelve hours without sucking on your tits, okay?” he grinned as she choked on her milkshake, “I mean, babydoll. You’re my girl,” she looked up at him this time, straw between his lips and he was instantly hard, “Look at me,” he glanced down at the nearly erect tent in his boxers, “You can’t even drink a milkshake in peace.”_

_Frannie sat her milkshake down and kissed Mary, a finger under his chin, “You’re sweet.”_

_“I ain’t the sweet one in this relationship,” Mary grinned._

_“Relationship,” Frannie asked, blinking – batting her eyelashes._

_Mary stared at Frannie for a long time, “Yeah,” and Frannie squealed, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close, “One vanilla-as-hell relationship,” Frannie paused and stared at Mary, her brow furrowing, “Don’t get your panties in a wad, my vanilla wafer. I like ya just the you are.”_


	8. Chapter 8

I stepped out into the cold morning, exhausted and my feet aching.

Mary had been gone since this morning and I missed him. I’d been happy to, at least, work most of the time he was gone but, I was missing him. Especially now that I was walking home in the dark. I sighed and headed for home. No kisses or praise or dirty talk to keep me warm.

As I walked, I became acutely aware of headlights illuminating the street next to me. I walked a bit faster and attempted to fish out the knife Mary had given me after he discovered my pepper spray had been expired by five years. I panicked and picked up my pace, still digging in my godforsaken, bottomless, wasteland of a bag, “Frannie!” I heard a familiar voice call my name, “Frannie – calm down,” I slowed and turned and saw Papa Emeritus the Second’s face as he rolled down the window, “Come here, sweet one,” he called and opened the door, “Get in, it’s freezing.”

“A-are you s-sure,” I said, my teeth chattering from adrenaline and the cold.

“Si, si, Mary asked me to keep an eye on you while he was gone, I am sorry I am late!”

I slid into the sedan and shut the door, thanking the universe for heated seats and the warmth that blasted from the vents, “Mary a-asked you t-to c-come?”

“He asked that I see you get home safe,” Papa said, and I stared at him – he wore no sunglasses this time and I could clearly see his eyes – one milky white, glowing in the light of the car’s console. The other, I could not tell the color but, it looked relatively normal. In the front seat, the driver waited and I stared at him – mostly the silvery mask he wore. It was pretty but, a little demonic, “No need to fear him, my dove.”

I swallowed and nodded, “Do you know where I live,” I asked, my eyes darting from the driver to Papa as we pulled into traffic.

“I do.”

“Oh.”

“I know a lot things, Frannie, nothing to worry about. Are you hungry? I am famished.”

I was going to say no but, my stomach growled and Papa smirked, “I’m not really dressed for anywhere,” I said, looking down at my uniform – the poor thing had been through two very long shifts and I was, frankly, whooped, “I’d take a rain check.”

“Pah, you look fine,” Papa said, “Hard work is nothing to be ashamed of. Settle in, we’ll go somewhere nice.”

“The Hotel, Papa?” the man asked from the driver’s seat.

“Si.”

We drove past my apartment and my phone buzzed in my pocket, Mary’s name blinked across the screen, “Do you mind?”

“Never,” Papa said, flicking open a newspaper, “Please, don’t mind me.”

“Hi, Mare,” I grinned.

“Hello, my beautiful, ass-kickin’ girlfriend.”

My grin turned into a full-blown smile, “You sound tired. Have you slept yet?”

“Nah.”

“Mare, you’ve got another show tonight. You better get to sleep.”

“Speak for yourself, ladybird – you haven’t been to bed yet, either.”

“Yeah, guess where I am.”

“Well, shit. I hope you’re at home with your hand down your pants cause... that’s what I’m doin’ thinking about you.”

My cheeks turned red hot as the corner of Papa’s mouth turned up, knowing that he heard Mary, “I’m sitting in the back of a car with Papa.”

“My Papa?”

“The very one.”

“Shit. I’ve already lost you. Don’t let him tie you up. It’s addicting.”

“ _Mary,”_ I whispered, “Shut up!” Mary yawned dramatically.

“You should go to bed,” I said, fiddling with the hem of my uniform.

“Can’t sleep without you. Need your boobs in my face.”

I rolled my eyes, “Ball up a couple towels and motorboat them for a bit.”

“Just quit your job and make Papa drive you out here.”

“Mare.”

“I know, I know,” he said and I could hear him falling asleep.

“I’m gonna hang up. Call me when you wake up.”

“Talk to you later, sweets.”

“Goodnight, Mare.”

I ended the call and sighed, “You miss him?” Papa asked, neatly folding his paper on his lap.

“I do,” I said, staring at the background on my phone – a stupid selfie of Mary grinning and my kissing his blood-covered cheek, “Yeah.”

“Ah, we are here.”

We had pulled up to a beautiful hotel – gleaming marble and shining windows, it was more expensive than anywhere I’d ever stayed, “I’d be okay with some hotcakes from McDonald’s.”

“Ah, well, I can assure this will be much, much better,” Papa said, donning his sunglasses and exiting, coming around to open my door, holding out his hand.

“Chivalrous,” I grinned, taking his gloved hand and joining him on the sidewalk.

“I shall have a talk with Mary about that,” he said and walked me inside, wrapping my arm around his. Once more, I was feeling less than confident in my work uniform and long, puffer coat while Papa had on a clearly expensive suit under an equally spendy wool coat.

We were seated immediately despite there being quite a line and an hour long wait, “Perks of being a Papa?” I asked, sitting down in the booth across from him.

“Si, I come with _many_ perks.”

I smirked but, focused on the menu, “Papa, so lovely to see you,” the waiter arrived, “Can I start you off with a drink?”

“Si, I’ll have my usual and Frannie,” Papa stared at me and then pulled off his sunglasses – his other eye was a lovely green, surprisingly similar to Mary’s, “Frannie will have a vanilla – no, no a caramel latte.”

I grinned and nodded, “You’re good.”

“Do you know what you’d like to eat, Papa?” the waiter asked.

“Si, I’ll have the chef’s breakfast. And,” Papa raised an eyebrow.

“Give it a go,” I said, closing the menu.

“She’ll have the strawberry crepes. Extra cream.”

“My god, he’s a miracle worker,” I grinned.

A few minutes later, we had not only the most delicious coffee I’ve ever tasted but also our food, “So, Mare has been kinda quiet when I asked him about you and I have been trying to figure you out. Is your name actually Papa?”

Papa grinned, “No, dove. But that is my title.”

“Title?” I asked, moaning a bit when I took my first bite of crepe, it was heavenly.

“Si, I am a leader in my Church.”

“You’re a pastor?” I asked, choking on my bite.

“No, no – definitely not. I am a child of Satan.”

“Like, Satan-Satan? Lucifer? The _Devil_?”

“The very one.”

“Tell me everything,” I said, intrigued.

Over breakfast, I learned about Papa’s Church, his brothers and his career. Nothing too personal but, he told me about his relationship with Mary. It made me miss my Mare even more. I stirred my coffee and Papa patted my arm from across the table, “He’s a good man,” he said, “Rough but, good. I promise you that.”

“I know.”

“And if for one second, he is not good, you come find me.”

I smiled, staring at Papa, “You love him, don’t you?”

Papa stared at me for a long time and then nodded, “In my own way.”

After my breakfast with Papa, he took me back home and I flopped on my bed after a hot shower. I had slipped on a pair of lacy, black underwear and snapped a picture of my hand in the waistband, sending it to Mary.

My phone rang almost instantly, “Good breakfast with Papa?” he asked before I could say hello.

“Mare.”

“I’m just saying,” he said and I could hear Mary’s smile.

“It was a nice breakfast. We mostly talked about you,” I said, snuggling into my bed. Mary was quietly and I realized he might be a little nervous about his former and present lovers enjoying a meal together, “Mostly about how much we love you, Mare. How much _I_ love you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” I grinned. And then I panicked. I had said it. _Love._ It was early in a normal relationship – incredibly premature for Mary Goore, “Mare. Mary. I... I, uh, you don’t have to say it. I’m sorry. I don’t want to freak you out. Mary? You there?”

“I uh, I gotta go, Fran,” Mary said, quietly.

“Okay,” I said, my eyes welling with tears, confident that this would be the last time I ever spoke to Mary.

“Hey, vanilla wafer,” Mary said, after a moment of tense silence.

“Yeah?”

“Love you, too.”


	9. Chapter 9

I’m a little nervous,” I said, holding onto Mary’s hand with both of mine

“Don’t be,” Mary pressed his lips to my temple, “It’s just a party.”

“I’ll remind you - I’ve never been to an orgy.”

“Who said it was an orgy?” Mary grinned.

“You, twenty minutes ago.”

“I’ll also remind you that we don’t have to be in the middle of it. Unless you want to,” he waggled his eyebrows and felt myself go a little clammy, “No, no. That’s cool. We can just sneak off. There will be lots of empty rooms. Hell, I bet we can use Papa’s room if we behave. It’s about the vibe, toots. Summer, good fuckin’ food. Lots of alcohol. Lots of bodies. Satan-almighty.”

“Sounds fun enough.”

“Just stick close, I’ll keep you safe,” Mary kissed me once more as we walked through the wrought iron gates on the Church.

“Mary Goore!” A man said, handsomely dressed. He wore black and white face paint, like Papa’s. He also wore the same fashion of robes and hat but, his were beautiful blue, trimmed in black and gold. 

“Hi, Papa,” Mary said, shaking his hand.

“Is this the beauty we have heard so much about,” the man asked, holding out his hand. I attempted to shake it but, he kissed it quickly with a kind smile.

“Yeah, Papa - this is Frannie. Frannie, meet Papa Emeritus the Fourth.”

“Four?”

“Ah, yes - I am the Fourth in a long line. Eh, us Satanists are not so good with numbers.”

“Mary!” 

“Ah,” Papa smiled, “My wife and our brood.”

We turned to see a beautiful woman walking towards us, two little boys behind her, her belly round beneath the floral maxi dress she wore, “Hey, Ames,” Mary smiled and was greeted with a kiss in the cheek, “Mo. Max,” Mary said, his face serious, “You two behaving?”

“We streaked today,” one of them said.

“Right on,” Mary grinned, fist bumping them both.

“Really?” One of them asked, eyes lighting up.

“No, not really,” Papa said, shaking his head, “Heathens.”

“I’m sorry - I’m Amelia,” the woman said, holding out her hand, “You must be Frannie. I’ve been begging Mary to bring you over. Leave it to him, to bring you on a night like this.”

I was about to speak when the two boys squealed in delight, “Grandpapa!” 

Walking down the sidewalk was _my_ Papa. The Second. I’ll admit I liked the crisp look of the Fourth Papa’s paint but, my Papa looked, frankly, hot as hell. It accentuated his already intense glare. But his eyes softened a bit as the boys jumped into his arms.

“Grandpa?”

“Secondo is my dad,” Amelia smiled, hand on her belly, “The boys adore him.”

“I had no idea,” I smiled, watching the seemingly terrifying Papa talk to each boy in his arms.

“Kinda kills the tough guy image,” Mary put an arm around my shoulder.

“It was lovely to meet you, I wish you would have come sooner, Mary” Amelia said as the Second Papa arrived, “But, these two need to come inside and get ready for bed,” both boys whined, “No, it’s almost sunset - remember?”

“I’ll be up shortly, my love,” Papa the Fourth said to his wife, the look on his face, despite the skull paint radiated nothing but love.

  
“Can we watch Spongebob?” One of the boys asked.

“No, we’re watching Friday the 13th. Uncle Dew said we could.”

“Uncle Dew is very, very mistaken,” Amelia said, smiling as she walked away, holding the boys’ hands, “If you need to get away, we’ll be in our rooms Frannie. Don’t be shy!”

“Si, si,” Papa Four said, taking my hand and patting it once more, “It is always a fun night but, for a first timer - eh, it might be a bit overwhelming.”

“I have Mary,” I smiled.

“Try the buffet table,” Papa grinned, “It is better than the orgy, I assure you.”

“Will do,” I grinned - I could get along with this Papa.

“Take care of her, Mary Goore,” Papa winked, “The apothecary is third door on the right, up the left staircase if you need some air conditioning.”

“Thank you.”

The Second Papa had waited patiently and then stepped in once the Fourth had left, “You look lovely, my pet,” he said, kissing my cheek.

“Thank you,” I said, relaxing a bit, “I had no idea you were a grandpa,” I grinned.

“Soon to be for a third time,” he said, proudly. Music drifted from the woods and I turned to see the gates closing behind us, “They’re beginning,” he turned to me, “There will be music and dancing. Lots of wine and mead. It will evolve into other... activities,” he said.

“He means sex,” Mary whispered in my ear and I elbowed him.

“You may stay for the festivities however,” Papa looked to Mary and Mary nodded, “Mary and I thought tonight would be an appropriate night to... try what we had discussed?”

The two men looked at me with hope in their eyes. One, a Satanic Anti-Pope - sweet and handsome and radiating utter sex. And the other, my perfect albeit wild and horny boyfriend, “Well?” He asked, puppy dog eyes and all. Papa and Mary had been making plans for the three of us for months since Papa and I had had breakfast together. Only in the last few weeks had Mary been dropping incredibly blatant hints and Papa had sent flowers on more than one occasion. You could see the brown on their noses from space.

I bit my lip and smiled, remembering Papa had only requested a clear, concise answer to this night, “Yes.”

Mary threw his arms in the air, “This is going to be... amazing,” he said, pulling my lips to his, “Love you.”

“I can still pull out, you know,” I started.

“Oh, no one’s pulling out tonight baby doll. That IUD is gonna be sweat-ting.”

“Mary,” Papa raised an already arched eyebrow. 

“Right, right,” Mary slung an arm around my shoulders, “C’mon baby doll,” he led me towards the music, I could smell the makings of a bonfire, “Let’s get you loosened up.”

“Ah, Mary,” Papa said, “You may be a seasoned player in this but, I am still _the_ Papa.”

Mary quieted but, the grin never left his face, “Yes, Papa,” he said, staring at me. I knew that look.

I was in for a very good, very long night.

The sun had set and the clearing in the woods was lit by lanterns and the big bonfire in the middle. The place was strewn with flowers, some of them in arrangements, others strategically placed around the circle of dancers. There were tables laden with food and even more tables with big wooden barrels of mead and wine. A few Ghouls seemed to be dancing and bar tending. I stayed close to Mary, holding his hand though I was enjoying the sweet, sparkling wine and a few treats from the dessert table. 

Papa appeared with another glass for me, standing next to me with his hand in my back, “If you would like to dance, there is no better time. The drunker they get, the wilder they are.”

“I’m okay,” I said, feeling a bit timid - I liked to dance with my friends and Mary but, you wouldn’t catch me shimmying up to a stranger. Papa patted my back but, left his hand there. 

It didn’t take long and I had a good buzz going, Mary too if his wandering hands were any indication. Papa was not drinking anything but sparkling water with lime, “I like to keep a level head on night’s like this,” he said.

“It’s getting late,” I said, quietly – suddenly a bit timid – when I saw couples and trios sneaking off into the woods. Some of them didn’t even bother sneaking off, laying right down in the soft but, trampled grass.

“Say the word, baby,” Mary crooned in my ear, kissing the shell of it

“My pet,” Papa ran his hand up and down my back, “Whenever you are ready.”

I looked from Papa to Mary – Mary brought my hand to his lips, “Tell us if you don’t want to.”

“I’m ready,” I said, lacing my fingers with Mary’s and taking Papa’s hand. Papa stared at me a moment, “I am.”

In Papa’s rooms, he locked the door behind us and led me to his expansive closet. I inhaled the scent of dry cleaning, incense and his cologne, “Green or black?” he asked, holding up two silky, dramatic robes.

“Oh,” I said, running my fingers over the slick, smooth fabric, “They’re so pretty.”

“I couldn’t pick for you,” he said, staring down at me.

“Oh, I like the black,” Mary said, from the bedroom.

“They are both yours,” Papa said.

“I like the black, too,” I smiled.

Papa left me to change – I stripped down, folding my clothes and stacking them neatly on the dresser next to a little statue of Baphomet. I ran my fingers over it and was surprised to find it warm – strange. I stood in the doorway, watching Mary and Papa. Mary was smoking a joint, peeling off his clothes with one hand. I couldn’t help but... smile and sigh. My gaze wandered to Papa, who was hanging his robes with neat, precision on a stand in the corner of the room, “You look... like a succubus,” Papa said, staring at me.

“Oh, wow, Fran,” Mary said, joint between his lips, struggling to get his jeans off one leg with the boot still on, “You look... fuck,” he said, falling over onto the bed, “You look amazing.”

“Let me help you,” I grinned, walking over to him and pulling off his boot and then his jeans, “Dork.”

Mary, righting himself on the bed, “C’mere,” he grinned, pulling me close and kissing me. He tasted like weed and booze – typical Mary, “Get on the bed. You want her ass up, Papa?”

“I want you ass down,” Papa was loosening the top buttons of his shirt.

Mary swallowed, “Me?”

“I have plans for Francesca and it does not involve her being ass up,” Papa’s eyes met mine, “Yet,” now it was I who swallowed, staring at Papa who now looked a bit less menacing without his papal robes but, his paint still accentuating that stare, “Lay down, Mary,” Papa said, his mouth set in a firm line. I stepped back, watching Mary throw his tee and boxers over his shoulder and crawl onto the bed, already hard, his face flushed. I watched as Papa gently and carefully tied Mary up, arms and legs pulled towards each bedpost. I chewed on my nails and Papa handed me a glass of wine, “Relax, my dove.”

“Thank you,” I said, relieved to have a bit more liquid courage.

One long finger pulled my chin towards him, he kissed me carefully – almost innocently, “We stop when you say stop, do you understand?” I nodded and he continued, “The moment you have had too much, you will say it. Si?” I nodded, again. Papa looked to Mary and took my glass of wine – now half gone, “Occupy him for a moment.”

Mary’s dick twitched against his belly as I sat down beside him, stretching out and propping my head up on my hand, “Hi, Mare,” I said, running my finger over his chest.

“Cold as fuck,” he grinned, “My nipples could cut glass. My balls are sucked up to my lungs.”

I rolled my eyes, “Romantic.”

“Hey, baby – this ain’t about romance. This is straight up sex. We’ll get to the romance later.”

“Maybe I’ll make it about romance, hm? Maybe that’s just what this... trio... needs?” I pressed a kiss to Mary’s chest. I ran my hand through his hair, pushing that messy devil’s lock out of his face and kissed the tip of his nose.

“You’re much too gentle for this, you know that, right?” he smirked.

I shrugged, “I don’t mind tying you up just to smooch you.”

“I assure you, dolce,” Papa reappeared, “We won’t ben doing much _smooching_ from here on out. Come. To my side.”

“You’re gonna do great,” Mary winked, letting his head fall back on the bed.

An hour, Mary was sweating and nearly in tears. The sparkling, emerald jewel in his ass glittered in the dim light. Papa had spent the last sixty minutes teaching me how to tease and punish and reward Mary. In between each short lesson, Papa had attended to me. And I to him – while Mary watched. I was on edge – but in the best way I could possibly imagine. Everything was on fire. Everything ached. I gnawed my lip to keep from smiling. The ecstasy was almost unbearable. I hadn’t come yet. Papa wouldn’t let me. And though he’d tried twice while I was on my knees, my mouth around him – I think he was surprised when I pulled away, “If I’m not coming, you’re not coming,” I was met with a smirk and nod and brought to my feet.

Now, poor, poor Mary laid in front of us – his hips pushing into the air as much as his restraints would allow, a shiny puddle of precum on his tummy, “Look at him,” Papa said into my ear, his hand still holding mine, mine holding the riding crop as we ran it along Mary’s thighs. His eyes were closed and he gnawed on his lip. His thighs and ass were peppered with pink welts. Papa pushed the crop up to Mary’s balls and his entire body twitched with a whine, “Look at him, he can’t even speak. Not that we want him to,” I bit my lip - my own thighs were slick against each other. Standing over Mary, leaning against Papa and his own elevated temperature, erection rubbing firmly on my ass was... invigorating, “Look how tight he is,” he tapped Mary’s balls and again and, again, he whimpered, “If you sit on him, he’ll cum immediately,” the crop slid up Mary’s taught belly to his chin, “Is that what you want, Mary?”

“Fuck. Yes.”

Papa slapped the crop on Mary’s nipple, “Mr. Goore.”

“Fuck. Yes. _Please_ ,” Mary begged, tears welling in his eyes.

Papa’s hand slid down my belly, “May I?” I nodded leaning into him, craving any sort of touch at this point, “Watch, Mary,” Papa cooed. Mary craned his neck and whined as Papa’s band undid the belt on my robe and he pulled it off, sinking his fingers into my underwear with a groan, “Mary,” Papa’s breath was hot on my neck, “She is so wet - perhaps not quite as vanilla as you make her out to be. Oh. You should feel her, Mary.” 

Mary mewling was more insistent now and I moaned as Papa’s mouth latched onto my neck and I felt the, now familiar, rumble of approval in his chest, “Untie him,” he ordered, yanking his hand from between my legs and running his tongue over them. I obeyed, freeing Mary, tossing my underwear in the process, “Stay, Mary,” Papa said, “Frannie, you... may seat yourself.”

“Thank god,” I whispered and then glanced to Papa, “Satan?”

“Better. Face me.”

I obeyed, sinking down slowly onto Mary’s dick - the both of us trembling. Mary’s hands shot to my hips and I held them tightly, lacing my fingers with his, “Ride him,” Papa ordered, undoing his belt. I rolled my hips and Mary’s hands tightened on mine – I wished I could see his face. Papa, finally fully naked, crawled onto the bed, sinking to belly, he ran his hands up my thighs as I rode Mary, my heart pounding out a hundred beats a second. I gasped when Papa’s mouth found my clit, “Oh, god,” I said and he looked up at me, a bit exasperated and I simply pushed his head back down. I caught him smiling before he went back to work. 

_Mary thought he had died._

_He knew he wouldn’t be doing this in heaven but, he wasn’t sure he deserved to be doing this in hell, either. But here he was, Frannie riding him like the fucking pony express and Papa sucking on her clit like he’d die if he didn’t. Frannie had already cum twice now and Mary was getting close. As soon as Papa slipped one, then two fingers into his ass - he nearly lost consciousness. Frannie shaking on top of him, crying his name - breathless and hot as fuck - brought him back to reality._

_“Get on top, Mary” Papa growled, his white glowing, he pulled Frannie to him and off of Mary, kissing her harshly for a moment, his hips pushing forward against her thigh - Mary knew what he was in for and his dick gave a kick of approval, “Lay down, mia bella,” Papa said, following her. He spread her legs and dove into her pussy completely and Mary whined, pumping himself as Frannie’s back arched and her eyes closed for a moment as she relaxed under Papa’s touch, “Mary, come here,” she said, her voice bringing Mary out of his own haze, holding out her hand, “Let me,” she held open her mouth and pulled Mary’s hips to her, “It’s okay,” she said, and if she wasn’t out of breath already, Mary would be halfway down her throat. She took his hand a put it on the back of her head with a wink, “Use me.”_

_“Oh, fuck. Fran.”_

_“Mmhmm,” she said and if she could smile, Mary knew she would be. She timed herself with Papa and in a few moments the sounds of Frannie mouth on Mary’s cock and Papa’s fingers in her pussy were loud and lewd and Mary **knew** he had died and gone to fucking heaven. Papa came up for breath, sliding off the and Frannie’s lips popped off of Mary, “Done? So soon?”_

_Papa smirked and wiped his mouth with his arm, “Get on,” he said, jerking his head from Mary towards Frannie and Mary was more than happy to oblige._

_“Hey, baby,” Mary grinned and Frannie ran her fingers through his hair, pulling his lips down to hers. His kiss trailed off, peppering her face with sweet kisses and singing her praises, “Didn’t think you’d be into this, toots.”_

_“I’m into anything that involves you,” she smiled._

_“Fuck, I love you,” Mary said, assaulting her mouth once more._

Despite Papa kneeling behind Mary with a bottle of lube, Mary and I were complete engrossed in each other. He didn’t wait for Papa’s orders, “So, so good,” Mary moaned, his mouth on my ear, “Take me so fucking good. My perfect girl,” his hand in my hair, pulling it a bit and exposing my neck. His lips and tongue and teeth were enough, on top of everything else, to make me drool.

“Are you ready Mary?” Papa asked.

Mary made a sound that was somewhere in between a grunt, a whine and a “mmhmm” of approval. Mary paused for a moment, controlling his breathe, whispering _I love you’s_ in my ear. I watched him, knowing what was happening - surprised and intrigued and turned on even more than I already was, when Mary’s eyes widened for a moment and then rolled into the back of his head.

“She may be perfect for you, Mary Goore,” Papa pulled his hips back, achingly slow and pushed them back forward even slower, “But I have never been surer that you were made to take me.”

It took a moment to find a rhythm but, find it we did. My legs were hooked around Mary’s waist and Papa had a hold of them like the handlebars on the bike as he pumped in and out of Mary, the three of us slick with sweat and out of breath. Mary had his face buried in my neck but, I had a clear view of Papa. He only had makeup from his nose on up - everything else was smeared and smudged and running down his chest. For an older man – older than Mary and I, at least – he was well built and his stamina was impressive.

As Papa continued and Mary moaned into me, the best I could do was cling to Mary for dear life - I felt another orgasm brewing, the tightness in my leg - then more tightness and I stretched my leg out straight to the sky, toes pointing and yelped, “Charley horse! Oh my god! Charley horse!”

“What?” Mary said, attempting to slow down but, we were both sent off kilter by Papa who was... lost to us. His pupils were blown and he was mumbling in Italian, “I’m gonna cum,” Mary grunted and picked up the pace, again.

“Oh my god, _Mary,_ my leg is going to pop off,” I squealed, attempting to shake the muscle cramp as I edged closer to my orgasm, my hand snaking between Mary and I to help us both along, “Oh, god, Mare - please cum. I wanna cum. _Oh. God._ ”

“Go, baby,” Mary grunted, his arms shaking.

I’d lost count for the evening but, what felt like for the billionth time, I came. Shaking and crying, drooling and clawing at Mary, he followed suit and both of us crumpling, my leg still in the air. I jumped when Papa roared, still in Italian though I was sure it was a slur of Satanic curses - he stilled, “My leg,” I squeaked.

“Satanas, Francesca,” Papa said, rubbing the knot and kissing my heel, “You should have kicked me.”

“Just... keep... rubbing it,” I said, throwing an arm over my eyes and sighing.

For a few minutes, we all sat in silence - hardly moving, coming down from a _very high_ , high. I yawned as Papa rubbed my leg free of the cramp and I whined a bit when he stopped, “She might have been a good sport but, she’s only good for one round,” Mary said, his lips trailing over my chest.

“That was one round?” I asked pushed myself up on my elbows. Papa chuckled and slid off the bed and Mary followed, “Satan, Jesus, Buddha help me.”

“Come on,” Mary padded after Papa, “Shower is the next best part,” I slid off the bed, my legs wobbly - Mary snorted and scooped me up.

“Thanks, baby,” I smiled, kissing my cheek.

Papa’s shower was probably better than the bed.

It was huge. And warm. The walls and floor were heated and there were shower heads coming from every direction, “Told ya,” Mary swatted at my ass as he set me down and I stepped inside, the water already a perfect temperature.

I sighed once when the water hit me and then again when I was smooshed Mary and Papa - almost instantly sudsy, “This is nice,” I smiled, though probably looked a little stupid - the wine was wearing off and I was starting to feel a hangover plus the exhaustion that accompanied what seemed like unending orgasms for the last two hours. 

Between the massage, the fragrant suds and the steam, I was vaguely aware that we weren’t actually doing much but scrubbing the sex and slick off of each other. My head rolled forward onto Papa’s shoulder and he pressed his lips to my ear, “A warm bed awaits, dove,” a few moments later, I was rinsed and squeaky clean, “Go, we’ll join you shortly.”

“Oh?” I asked looking from Papa to Mary. Mary winked, “Round two?”

“Just a quick one.”

“Fair,” I said, kissing both of their cheeks, “Don’t be too long.”

I wrapped myself in a plush, emerald green towel (heated) and dried my hair. A grin on my face. The glass of the shower was fogged but, I saw Mary’s ass press against it once, twice and then a full frontal. I wanted to join but, everything below my waist begged for a moment of peace.

I wouldn’t call Papa’s rooms plush, but they were luxurious. Extravagant, too - it was all black, emerald and silver – straight, modern lines. His papal robes hung on a stand in the corner and I glanced towards the bathroom door, judging by the sounds, I had at least a few more minutes. I took the mitre and placed it on my head and then a scarf-like strip of fabric and draped it over my shoulders. This was probably completely out of line for most everyone in the Church. I wasn’t even sure if Papa would think it funny but, my mascara was running down my face and I sort of looked like a hot, naked, chick Papa.

I walked over to the wine fridge beneath the counter of the small kitchenette and picked a dark red, popping the cork and taking a sip as I searched for a cup, “That is quite the outfit,” Papa’s voice echoed off the walls, “I cannot say I have seen it on anyone else.”

I turned to face him, all the sudden – after everything - blushing and nervous, “I’m sorry.”

“Ah,” Papa sauntered over to me, white eye still glowing and I realized he could go for and was probably up for many, many more rounds. The shower was still going and I could hear Mary singing. Papa had a towel wrapped around his waist and his shoulders were still steaming from the heat of the water, “If you were a sibling, or a ghoul, I would cane you,” I looked up at Papa, “But,” he said, leaning against me and reaching up into the cupboard behind my head. He produced a wine glass. I nodded, swallowing a bit, still fearful. Papa took the bottle from me and poured the wine before setting bottle down - never taking his eyes from mine.

“Papa - I... I shouldn’t have, really. I just thought it was a... a... scarf. Trying to be funny.”

“Hush,” he said, taking one long draw from the glass and then handing it to me, “You look... better than I ever did,” I took a drink of the dark, dry red and sat it down, pulling him close and kissing him. To my surprise he moaned a bit, his arms snaking around me to pull me close, “It is called a _stola_. And I never thought to... use it. This,” he glanced towards the hat on my head, “Is my mitre.”

“You never let me play dress up,” Mary’s voice echoed behind us.

“Si,” Papa said, looking over his shoulder, “But you’re not as pretty as she is.”

“Fair enough,” Mary shrugged and then jumped into bed, “Carry on, you two. Don’t let me interrupt,” he grinned, snuggling beneath the covers but, clearly propping himself ups but, his hand snaking below the blankets.

Papa turned back to me, the towel around his waist a blatant tent, “If you are too tired, my dove - I do not take offense. My... endurance sometimes takes some getting used to,” he chuckled but ran his fingers down the edge of the fabric, his knuckles brushed my nipple and I shivered.

“I, uh,” I took another long sip of wine.

“Whatever you want Fran,” Mary said, he was staring at me now, serious, “If you don’t want it, you say no. Papa works the same way we do. If you want more, say more. If you want us to fuck off, say so.”

“I would rather die than pressure you, mia bella,” Papa said, taking my chin in his hand, “know that.”

“You two are awfully worried about a girl when she was just going to ask if you wanted to do it on the counter or the bed,” I untucked Papa’s towel and let it fall to the floor, “Counter is closer.”

“Very well,” Papa said, taking my face in his hands and pulling my mouth to his. It was very sensual - much more so than when he was with Mary. Carefully, he lifted me into the counter which, on a brief, second thought appeared to be just the right height for a situation such as this, “My stipulations when I was given these quarters were... specific.”

“Handy,” I said, pulling him to me with my legs.

“Si.”

_Mary watched, in a delightful haze or exhaustion and horny, from the bed. He was spent. His legs were jelly and even the sight in front of him wasn’t enough to coax his dick back to life._

_Still, he watched. Enjoying every second of it. Frannie completely entranced but, Papa had that effect. His touch, his taste, his smell - there was something about him that made you, in that second, completely devoted to him. Mary knew what Frannie was feeling - her eyes a bit hooded and dark, her mouth hung open as Papa kissed her jaw, down her neck and back up again. She was quietly moaning - Mary knew she’d be begging for it soon enough. Frannie was like that - of course she loved the foreplay, Mary could unwind her with his tongue and a finger or two in seconds, minutes if he took it slow. And she was good at giving it, too. What she really loved - what she begged for - was just to be close. A few weeks into their relationship, he had finally coaxed out of Fran what she liked in bed and she, with a red face, said that she just liked to be close, “I like to feel you. Inside of me. And outside. I like to wrap my legs around and feel your entire body on mine,” she had bit her lip and smiled and then Mary had to give it to her, just how she liked it._

_And now he was watching Papa - who rarely fucked anyone without a paddle or some rope, roll his hips against Frannie - Mary couldn’t see his dick pumping in and out but, he could certainly hear it. Frannie had one hand behind her on the counter and one hand on the cupboard, bracing herself. She looked hot as fuck in Papa’s mitre and scarf - he figured she knew but, he wondered if she knew exactly what she’d gotten away with. Papa was picking up the pace, even though he could keep going many, many more rounds - Mary knew how Fran felt and he knew even Papa was immune to the hot, sweet, slick and the short, quiet moans, “Oh, god Mare,” she whined and Mary’s head shot up, his eyes wide. Frannie didn’t seem to notice and Papa was too busy huffing and growling into her neck to care. Mare grinned and laid back against the pillows, hands behind his head._

_Yep. He loved her._

_Papa carried Frannie to bed and Mary pulled her close, “Hey, baby,” he said, lips against her shoulder as she settled in._

_“Hm,” was all she could muster._

_“Let her sleep, my pet,” Papa said, “She has more than earned it.”_

_“Yeah,” Mary said, carefully pushing her hair out of her face, “Just... uh... like to be near her is all.”_

_Papa turned off the already dim lights and blew out a few candles before joining them in bed, “She is... magnetic,” Papa said, but he carefully reached across her and ran a finger down Mary’s face, “Not unlike others, I know.”_

_Mary blushed and then yawned, “it was a good night, yeah?”_

_Papa stared at Frannie and Mary, Mary pressed up against Frannie and Frannie already sound asleep. He was, in his own way, over the moon that Mary had found someone so lovely. And someone that he could love as well. For a split second, he let his mind wander - how nice it would be to keep them in his bed forever. Then he came to his senses knowing that as much as he loved Mary, he could never live with the wild boy. And Francesca, though she may be swayed to convert, seemed quite comfortable in her own life, with or without him or Mary. He sighed._

_Domestic life was never for him but, the thought of it - when there was still enough wine and musk in the air - was a nice thought._


End file.
